


It Ended With a Bang

by Denise



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Apocafic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise/pseuds/Denise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season- 10+<br/>Spoilers – 100 Days, Enigma, EATG<br/>Content Level – Older Kids<br/>Content Warning-  couple curse words<br/>Summary- Jack O'Neill remembered exactly where he was when the world ended.</p><p>Thanks to Sue for her wonderful advice. If it wasn't for her this would be a flat little 15 page fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Ended With a Bang

It Ended with a Bang  
By  
Denise

* * *

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

* * *

COG-CON – 1.

Sam always thought it was a weird term. DEFCON, that made sense. Defensive Condition on a scale of one to five. It was logical. It described a series of conditions and actions, steps to take, rules to follow.

COG-CON was different.

Continuity of Government.

Nice sounding words meaning 'keep the politicians alive'.

She knew, at its most basic, the rule had merit. People needed leadership, especially during times of crisis. But, and she didn't know if it was her military mind talking or if it was her experience with various politicians, sometimes she wondered just how self-motivated the COG guidelines were, how many people were on that list, not due to the job they did, but due to their simple desire to survive.

 

:::::::

 

Jack O'Neill remembered exactly where he was when the world ended. He had just turned onto Interstate 80 and was making good time to beat the Chicago rush hour.

He barely noticed the first flash of something entering the atmosphere. And any sound was too far away to overcome the opera aria echoing in the cabin of the roomy sedan.  
The second one, however, definitely caught his attention and he pulled over, getting out of his car to see better. 

As he stood by the side of the road, cars and trucks whizzing by, he saw a third and fourth object rain down from the heavens, both lighting the sky with a brilliance that made him look away and wince.

"Ah hell," he muttered, recognizing the impacts for what they were. Edora may have been a decade ago, but it had left an indelible memory upon him. He leaned into his car and dug for his cell phone. He pulled it out and poked at it, saying some very un-general like things when he discovered that it was dead. "Great, the world is ending and I miss out because I forgot to charge the damn phone," he said, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

He tossed the useless secure phone into the seat and looked up. He could see more and more asteroids – or were they meteors – streaking across the sky, some breaking up harmlessly and ending their lives as fiery streaks in the sky, others were larger and they struck the ground, most too far away to be heard. "How the hell did we miss this?" he asked, getting back into his car.

With his phone dead, there was nothing he could do here. Lacking a secure phone – or any phone – he needed to get back to the office. He put the car in gear and drove across the median, grateful for the light traffic as he sped down the eastbound lane. As he drove, he couldn't help but glance out the window, unable to keep count of the fiery trails streaking across the sky. The other drivers were just now noticing, car after car either pulling over or some just stopping right in the middle of the lane, creating a hazard for others. Jack swerved and dodged, briefly wondering what would kill him first, the rocks raining down out of the sky, or the stupidity of his fellow humans.

 

:::::::

 

Jack drove in a way that he hadn't used since he was nineteen and flush with youthful immortality. He knew his speed was reckless, but as meteors continued to rain down like hail from hell, simply being on the surface was reckless.

He weaved in and out of the slower moving vehicles half hoping that he'd find a cop to pull him over. At least then he might get some answers.

As he drove, he continually scanned the bands of his car's radio, desperate for some information. But more and more all he encountered was static.

Finally, after driving for almost three hours the radio settled on a barely audible EAS message. 

 

…Sustained multiple impacts…heavy damage…urged to remain in a place of safety until this meteor storm stops…tidal wave…east coast…near coastal area seek a place of high ground…unknown how much longer…communication satellites destroyed…power grid has collapsed…repeat, if you are in a safe place, remain there.

 

The broadcast faded and Jack pulled over, torn about what to do next. He was closer to Washington, D.C. and the command center there. But the ominous roiling black clouds hovering over the eastern horizon suggested that the Eastern seaboard had sustained heavy damage. 

He was afraid, if he kept going east, he'd be driving into a dead end – perhaps literally.  
He turned around again, this time a different destination in mind. It always seemed to survive. No matter the alternate reality, no matter the calamity, the SGC always seemed to survive. 

And, he knew, the Stargate was the only way off the planet – at least until the fleet made it back. He had to get there.

Jack drove, already plotting his course in his head. He knew that Colorado Springs was at least a thousand miles away, but it was where he had to go.

 

:::::::

 

Aaron Hodge trudged down the highway, alternating putting his hands in his pockets or hanging onto the straps of his back pack. He felt like he was trapped in a really bad movie. He caught a whiff of the smoke and coughed, his eyes watering. He looked nervously over to the right, trying to gauge how far away the fire was. 

He hoped that the road would be a safe place, but he wasn't sure. He knew enough about grassfire to know that as long as you stayed upwind you were okay, but there didn't seem to be anything resembling upwind, especially while the asteroids had been falling. It seemed like every close strike sent a massive gust of wind away from it.

But there hadn't been a strike in a few hours, so maybe it was all over?

He heard a car coming up behind him and he turned around, holding out his thumb. Yeah, hitch hiking was dangerous, and if this was a crappy movie, he'd be catching a ride with a serial killer or something, but he was too tired to keep walking.

Much to his surprise, the slick looking black sedan slowed and pulled over. He walked up to it, bending over as the driver lowered the passenger side window. "Get in," the man said.

"Where are you going?" Aaron asked.

"Does it matter?" He nodded towards the windshield. "The next town is thirty miles down the road; it'll take you two days to get there the pace you're walking."

"Yeah," Aaron said, sliding his backpack off as he got into the car. He had barely reached for his seat belt when the man put the car back in gear and sped off. "I'm Aaron," he said.

"Jack," the man answered. "What are you doing out here?"

"Would you believe, one of those asteroids hit my car," Aaron said, still not believing what had happened. "I mean, it was a little one and all but it just fell and it smashed right through my hood and—"

"Meteor," Jack said.

"What?"

"They're asteroids when they're out in space, a meteor when it falls."

"How do you know that stuff?" Aaron asked.

"Osmosis," Jack said. He glanced up. "Things should be okay at least for a while."

"Do you think it's over?"

"We'll see," Jack said. He looked at Aaron. "The rocks are up there, the planet is spinning, if they're still up there about eighteen hours from now, we'll get hit again."

"Where did they come from? I mean," he said in response to the man's raised eyebrows, "no one said anything about aster—meteors coming so…aren't there supposed to be satellites or something to stop them?"

"Satellites can't stop meteors, if anything some of the stuff the fell might have been satellites. And no one knew this was coming," Jack said.

"How do you know that?"

"I know," Jack said, completely confident.

Aaron nodded and fell silent, content to watch the scenery flash by. "Where are you going?" he asked after a few minutes.

"What?"

"You're doing like ninety, man, where are you going?""  
  
"Colorado," Jack said, slowing as a town appeared on the horizon. "I need to get some gas, you can get off here."

Jack drove into the town and Aaron sat up in his seat, looking for some sign of people. The town looked deserted with cars abandoned beside the highway. Some of the front doors were hanging open, personal belongings strewn across the lawn.

"Wow, looters?" Aaron said.

"More than likely panicked people running for their lives," Jack said. He slowed. "Probably because of that."

Ahead of them a massive chunk of the road was gone, only a crater left in its place. "Whoa! Dude, the road is gone."

"Yeah, got that," Jack said. "So's the power." He gestured towards the dark street lights. He sighed. "Which means we're screwed for gas."

"Pull over," Aaron said.

"What?"

"Just, pull over." Jack did as he instructed and Aaron got out, jogging across a front yard to a house. He picked up an abandoned garden hose and unscrewed it from the faucet. He turned back towards Jack who was standing beside the car. "Got a knife?" Aaron yelled.  
Jack pulled a large pocket knife out of his pants pocket and opened it, walking towards Aaron as he did. He held the knife out butt first and Aaron took it, using the sharp blade to slice the fifty foot hose into a six foot long length. "We need a jug or bucket," he said.

"Have you ever siphoned gas?" Jack asked, figuring out Aaron's plan.

"Have you?" Aaron shot back.

Jack shrugged. "Tried once, got a mouthful, got sick and decided that gas wasn't all that expensive," he confessed.

"Some of these cars have to have gas in them," Aaron said, holding up his newly made tool.

"Let's go find some," Jack said.

 

:::::::::::::::::

 

Jack looked at the string of tail lights in front of him and cursed. He and Aaron had made decent time for a while. He already being on the road had allowed him a head start on all the evacuating people. And Jack knew that the smaller populations of the Midwest had helped too.

But as the hours passed and they got deeper into Illinois, they'd started to see more and more refugees. This meant more and more cars on the road to the point that the Interstate was now gridlocked. And the issue of the heavy traffic was compounded by the heavy clouds that hung low in the sky. 

"Is that rain?" Aaron asked.

Jack shook his head. "Debris."

"Debris?"

"The meteors, when they hit the ground, kick up dust and dirt and stuff and it gets caught in the atmosphere," Jack said, ignoring the fact that he was quoting something he'd half watched during one of Carter's Discovery Channel marathons.

"Dude, that's a lot of cars," Aaron said, staring not only at the endless sea of red tail lights but also the endless stream of head lights on the other side of the median. 

"Everyone's going somewhere," Jack said. "Thing is, I don't think they have any idea WHERE they're going."

"Do people do that?" Aaron asked. "Just run?"

"You saw it in that town. If Chicago took a few hits, yeah, they'll run."

"But I thought you said that the meteors are hitting everywhere?"

"I didn't say they were doing the smart thing," Jack said. "Just a gut reaction to run." He shrugged. "Then again, for all I know, Chicago is on fire again."

"Again?" Aaron asked.

"1871? Mrs. O'Leary's cow?" Aaron shook his head, not getting the reference. "Anyway, this is not working," he said, pulling the car over.

"What?" Aaron asked as the cars behind them surged forward, filling in the gap.

Jack turned off the engine and pointed out the windshield. "Traffic's not even crawling," he said. "We'll make better time on foot."

He got out of the car and popped the trunk. "On foot?" Aaron asked, also getting out of the car. "Like walking."

"That's usually what it means." Jack dug in the trunk, pulling out a duffle bag. As Aaron watched, he opened it and sorted through the clothing inside, leaving some of it in the trunk and stuffing the rest back into the pack. "Get the food and water from the back seat."

"We can't walk all the way to Colorado," Aaron said. 

"If we're lucky, we won't have to," Jack said, settling his pack on his shoulders. "We just need to get on the other side of this mess."

"And then?"

"We'll find another car," Jack said. 

"Steal a car?"

"Think of it as requisitioning resources."

 

:::::::::

 

Sam sat at her desk. Her eyes burned from reading her ship's libraries and files on meteor impacts. She knew, in some ways, it was a waste of time. Every impact was unique in its own way, so nothing she'd learn would totally prepare her – and her crew – for what they'd find on Earth. But she couldn't help herself. She needed to know, to have some idea what to expect.

Maybe it was a throwback to her days on SG-1, when she was the one everyone looked to for answers. Or maybe it was just her pathetic attempt to try and feel in control of a situation by knowing as much about it as she could.

Her door chimed and she looked up, blanking her computer screen. "Come." Major Marks and Doctor Woolley walked in. She motioned for them to have a seat. "It's going to be at least three more days before we can reach Earth," she said, dispensing with the formalities.

"How bad is it?" Woolley asked.

Sam shook her head. "We haven't received any word other than the first transmission." She turned her monitor back on.  "I've been reading over our database but there's just a lot of conjecture and guessing."

"How much conjecture and guessing?" Woolley asked. He nodded towards the screen. "As soon as you tell the crew, you know they're going to all access that database. It'd be good to know what's in there so that we can know how to handle it."

"I'm not telling the crew," Sam said, folding her hands on her desk.

"You're not?" Marks asked. Major Marks served as Sam's executive officer, a role that she thought he was fantastically well suited for given that he'd served upon almost all of Earth's ships.

"I tell them now and they have three days to worry and dream up the worst case scenario," she said. "Them knowing today or three days from now won't change much beyond us arriving at Earth with a puzzled but rested crew, or a crew that's sick with worry and anxiety."

"Wouldn't you want to know?" Marks asked.

"I agree with her decision," Doctor Woolley said. "Knowing will do nothing but increase their stress, and I think it's safe to say that things will be stressful enough once we get there."

"How do we prepare the ship without telling people?" Marks asked.

"It won't take that long," Sam said. "As near as I can determine, we'll be the first ship in orbit. Because of that, our first duty will be to evacuate the Continuity of Government sites.  We should have a few hundred evacuees. We'll be able to start small," she said to Marks.

"When do the other ships get here…there?" Marks asked.

"We'll be on our own for two to three days."

Woolley nodded. "There's going to be some anxiety," he said. "The crew…the people in this room, we all have family down there."

Sam sighed and looked down for a second. "I know. We'll do what we can but…we have a job to do and we have people down there that are counting on us. And, I think for some of them, we're the only hope they have. We can't let them down."

 

:::::::::

 

"RUN!" Jack yelled over his shoulder as Aaron tried to keep up.

Around him he heard the bone chilling scream and then thump as rocks rained down from the sky.

One struck close and he cringed, raising his arms to protect his face from the dirt and heat. They, and a few dozen others, had been walking along side the road when the meteors had started to fall again. Fiery streaks raining down from the dark and cloudy sky. 

The road itself was clogged with vehicles, some moving but most abandoned. Around him, people screamed and ran, desperate for shelter from the heavy onslaught. "HERE!" Jack yelled, standing beside the road. He pointed to a large box culvert – a square concrete tube under the highway – creating a manmade cave maybe five feet tall and six feet wide. "Get in!" Jack yelled, seemingly oblivious to the meteors.

Aaron noticed that he was trying to get the attention of the others and tried to do the same, yelling occasionally, pushing panicked people towards the shelter. Finally, when there were no more within sight, Jack pushed Aaron and sought shelter himself.

"What time is it?" Jack said.

"What?"

"TIME!"

Aaron looked at his watch. "Two-thirty."

Jack nodded, still breathing harshly. "Fourteen hundred every day we take shelter," he said.

"That sounds like a good idea," Aaron agreed, grinning at the man.

Jack glared at him and then shook his head, sinking down to sit on the floor of the culvert. "God save me from smartasses," he said, propping his arms on his up drawn legs.

Aaron glanced into the culvert and the couple dozen people sheltered there. "Would you prefer panic and hysteria?"

Jack sighed. "I'd prefer to be a few hundred miles to the west," he said.

"Do you know somewhere safe?" a woman said, inserting herself into the conversation. She held two children close. "Somewhere we can go?"

"Does he know somewhere?"

"Is there a shelter we can get to?"

"Where is safe from this?"

Voices echoed up and down the culvert and Jack glared at Aaron then shook his head. "The only place I know," he said loudly. "Is hundreds of miles away."

"Is it safe?" the mother said. "We left Chicago because it was hit and…my babies were in Katrina, I wasn't going to leave them in a city during another disaster. If you know somewhere safe, somewhere were we can go, I don't care how far away it is."

"If we could just get a car, man," one of the other refugees said. "Ain't like the cops are gonna be running speed traps."

"Ain't like the road's gonna be in one piece," Jack retorted. "Look, this is the second day in a row, which means there could be more. And every day that the meteors fall, they're gonna do more damage. Vehicles, roads, buildings, it's all getting beat to hell." He looked down the culvert, barely able to make out more than just shapes in the darkness. "And we won't need just one car, but about ten, that's ten tanks of gas every couple hundred miles. That's food for fifty we'll have to scrounge."

He walked down the culvert, the dim light coming in from the outside barely enough to illuminate the faces of the people sheltering there. "It means that we're going to all have to work together. Finding vehicles, finding gas, sharing the driving."

One by one, they nodded. "Okay," Jack said. "Yesterday the meteors lasted for about two hours. Which means we have at least that long to wait. So chill out, relax. We'll be leaving as soon as I think it's safe."

Aaron watched Jack walk back towards him, reclaiming his seat by the entrance to the culvert. "You didn't have to do that, you know," he said softly.

"Yeah, I did," Jack said. "Get some sleep, you're gonna have to help me hotwire some cars."

 

:::::::::

 

 

Jack glanced in his rear view mirror, counting the headlights. "I think we've gained a couple," he said, glancing over at Aaron. The young man was at least awake; the other three passengers were all dozing, or pretending to sleep. 

It was fully dark now, although it'd never really gotten light, and the convoy crept along at about thirty miles per hour, not nearly fast enough to make decent time, but better than nothing. The meteor shower earlier in the day lasted for three hours, which meant that it was early evening before they'd even gotten situated enough to head out. Fortunately, the flat plains of Illinois and Indiana made it easy for them to 'off road' when they encountered a heavy congestion of abandoned vehicles or when they needed to give wide berth around a burning wreck.

"How far do you think we'll make it?" Aaron asked.

Jack shook his head. "I don't know. I'm trying to think of anywhere underground where we can shelter tomorrow."

"If we can make it to Saint Louis, there have to be underground parking garages," one of the men in the back seat said, sitting up.

"What's your name?" Jack asked.

"Frank, Frank Simpson." He leaned forward. "We visited Saint Louis once, the downtown is lousy with parking garages, all we gotta do is get across Illinois and the Mississippi."

"If we can make it to the Arch, they have an underground museum," another man spoke up. "We went there once when I was a kid."

"I'm not too crazy about a big city," Jack said, glancing back. "Close quarters, and people get nuts in situations like this. Normally, I'd say we'd be safer out in the open."

"Not when the rocks start to fall," Frank said.

"I know," Jack replied. "We'll just have to risk it." He looked at the mile marker. "We'll have to pick up the pace once it gets light," he said. He glanced over at Aaron. "See if there are any maps in the glove box," he instructed. 

Aaron dug. "Nothing."

"Okay." Jack looked in the rear view mirror again, then at the road sign. "It's probably too dangerous to stop anywhere but a rest area in the dark. But first light we need to scout for a convenience store or Wal-Mart or something. People back there will need food and water." He looked over at Aaron. "Your job is going to be to scrounge us some maps. I want every car in this convoy to have an atlas or map of the states between here and Colorado. If someone gets separated or has to fall back, I want them to have some idea where to go."

"But you said this place we're going doesn't like visitors," Aaron said. 

"They don't," Jack said. "But help is coming. And Colorado Springs is an evacuation point," Jack said, deliberately leaving the details vague. He knew that the bases were all on lockdown, and honestly wasn't even sure if he'd be able to get into the SGC or if he'd have to 'break in', but he did know that the mountain was one place that was safe from the meteors, and they'd be the center of command and control for the ships when they returned.

He just couldn't tell the people this. Not because he was worried about the classification, but because they'd probably think he was nuts.

"Can you think of anywhere else to go?" Aaron asked the other men. "No one is on the radio telling us where to go or what to do. I haven't seen any cops or military. Jack's the only one that seems to have a plan."

"I know," Frank said. He looked at the other two men crammed into the back seat of the car. "I think we all know, it's just…we don't know where we're going."

"I'll fix that tomorrow," Jack promised, realizing that he was dealing with civilians and the typical 'I'm the ranking officer, do what I say' attitude wasn't going to play well with these folks.  "It's not a secret, per se, just really hard to explain."

"We should hit Saint Louis mid morning," Aaron said. "Presuming there's no more delays."

Jack nodded. "There's a rest area about an hour ahead. We'll plan to stop every 3-4 hours and swap drivers. The last thing we need is anyone falling asleep at the wheel."

 

::::::::

 

"Ma'am." Sam stared out the view screen, almost mesmerized by the shimmering blue of hyperspace. "Ma'am?" A hand gently nudged her arm and Sam looked over, blinking at Sergeant Miller. "The requisitions you asked for?" he prompted.

"I'm sorry, thank you," Sam said, taking the clipboard from him. She read them over and signed her name. She handed it back to the man with a smile and then glanced around the bridge. "Major, I'll be in my quarters," she said, sliding out of her chair. "You have the bridge."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

Sam left the bridge and made her way to her quarters. Once there, she gratefully slipped inside, sighing as she heard the door slide shut behind her. She flopped down on her bed and closed her eyes, regretting it immediately when images played across her vision.   
Fiery balls streaking across a dark sky, the indescribable whine of an incoming meteor, the ground shaking with each impact. 

Even years later, she still remembered Edora. Her and Teal'c waiting desperately for the colonel to come, their frantic dash through the gate when he didn't.  The impacts had done indescribable damage to the planet, and she knew that Edora was nothing compared to what Earth had to be going through. 

She didn't have many details, but all indications were that the planet was due for days of impacts, perhaps the equivalent of most of the asteroid field hitting Earth. One batch of 'fire rain' was bad enough, but prolonged impacts could destroy the planet, and everyone on it.

She opened her eyes and raised her left hand, staring at the gold band around her third finger. And, just like a decade ago, he was down there in the middle of it. She could only hope that Jack had made it to one of the shelters. 

She knew that he was on the COG list. His position in Homeworld Security guaranteed him that much. There was some that even argued that his role was more vital than the President himself, simply because Jack knew more about Earth's defenses and off world resources than anyone else. 

She knew which shelter he was supposed to go to. All she could hope for was that he'd both had the time to get there, and had been smart enough to know when to run for safety and not play hero.

 

_"So this is the fabled shelter, huh?" Sam asked, walking beside Jack as they explored the subterranean bunker._

_"That's what the sign says," Jack answered, glancing over his shoulder at the annoyed airman who'd let them in._

_"It won't be easy to evacuate people from here," Sam said, trying to gauge how far underground they were._

_"Weren't you bragging about your transporters?" Jack asked. "I seem to recall you suggesting that we make a rule that every ship needs a Mister Scott," he teased._

_"That was you," she reminded. "The Hammond has great transporters, thanks to Thor. But the Odyssey and Daedalus might have trouble penetrating all this rock without transponders to help them." She looked over at her husband. "We should probably do some tests, see where the signal is the best and then set up a protocol for the survivors. Instead of having the ships pull people from all over the shelter, have one room that they go to. Maybe we can even rig some signal boosters or install some sensors, something to help the ships out. I mean, who knows what they may be trying to beam through."_

_"Meaning?"_

_"Atmospheric interference or the planet could be under attack and the ship under fire."_

_Jack nodded. "Good points, I'll bring them up. Anything else you notice?"_

_"Other than this being a crappy place to hunker down and wait to die?" she asked._

Was he there? Did he make it to the shelter? Was the shelter even safe? She knew that the COG shelters were a 'knee jerk' reaction to 9/11, and she honestly doubted how secure they'd really be.  Sure, they'd work for conventional attacks, and maybe even a nuclear strike if ground zero was far enough away, but could they withstand a bombardment from space? Would it keep the people safe or were they just fancy tombs?

"I'm thinking too much," she groaned, levering herself up. A distraction, that's what she needed. Making her mind up in an instant, she got off the bed and opened her small closet. The Hammond had a good fitness center, and she could think of nothing better to take her mind off things. 

 

:::::::::::

 

Jack stood at the edge of the bridge, trying to see over the curve of the structure. "We just can't catch a break, can we?" Aaron asked.

"Most of it seems to be there," Jack said. Ahead of them the Poplar Street Bridge seemed to be mostly intact. Mostly being the key word. Jack wasn't sure if he could see holes through the bridge deck, but he could see that the structure was littered with abandoned cars, some of which had burned.  At the very least, they'd have to zig zag their way through.

"There's that other bridge up river," Aaron said, point off towards the north. Between the two structures, he could see the Gateway Arch, still intact, on the other side of the river.

Jack shook his head, glancing at his watch. "We have less than an hour before our daily deluge. And we need to get to the other side AND find somewhere to shelter. We don't have time for detours. We already wasted enough this morning," Jack said, referring to what should have been an hour's stop at a strip mall that lasted almost three times as long.

"There's the stadium," Frank said. "Might be easier to get into."

"Good," Jack said. "I'll go first, alone," he said to Aaron. "I need you guys to space out the cars. No more than two at a time on the bridge. If it falls, go north. If it gets too close to two, get people to shelter under the bridge. It won't be great but better than nothing."

"What if we're on the bridge when the sky starts to fall?" Frank asked.

"Run?" Aaron suggested.

"What he said," Jack agreed. 

Jack got behind the wheel of the car and started the ignition. "Sure you shouldn't walk?" Aaron asked, sticking his head in through the open window.

"Using the car is the only way we'll know if the bridge won't fall," Jack said. Aaron nodded and stepped back. "I'll fire a shot when I'm over. See ya on the other side."

Jack put the car into gear and eased his way onto the bridge. He drove in and around the abandoned vehicles, at times wishing that he had a tank so that he could push the cars out of the way. As he got closer to the center of the bridge he could see where a meteor had hit the other lanes of the bridge, knocking out a significant chunk of the deck. 

He continued on and made it to the other side, pulling his car well off the bridge before he put it in park and got out. He pulled out his pistol and aimed upriver, firing one shot.

He waited for a few minutes, sighing when he saw the first car of the convoy reach the peak of the bridge. They made it safely across and Jack gestured for them to keep going down the road a bit. They had collected quite a few vehicles as they made their way across Illinois and their convoy was now thirty cars strong.

One by one, they crossed the bridge while Jack watched, his gaze alternating between the bridge and the dark sky. He hadn't seen the sun in days, not since the first meteors.  He had a pretty good idea what was happening, he'd been around Carter too long not to. 

Given that they'd had two episodes of impacts, it told him that it wasn't just the United States being hit; the impacts had to have happened all around the world. Which meant hundreds of tons of debris in the air, and likely millions dead.

This definitely wasn't going to be like Edora. It wasn't one night of impacts that the planet would recover from in a few weeks. It would take years for the environment to fix itself, if any of them would be around to see it.

Suddenly, one of the cars sped over the bridge, the brakes squealing as it slid to a stop. "What's wrong?" Jack asked, running over to the car.

"It's giving way," the driver said, the woman's face wide with horror. "There are whole chunks falling into the river."

"Damn it," Jack exclaimed. "Stay here!"

He ran onto the bridge, staring in horror at the sight of a car teetering on the edge of a massive hole. "Get out!" he yelled, waving his hands. He could see that a car had already fallen through and he remembered it to be a burned out hulk of a vehicle. The heat from the fire must have weakened the structure.

He saw the passengers in the car easing their way out the back windows. Only the front of the car and the tires were hanging over the edge, so the car wasn't in a hugely precarious situation, but Jack had no way of knowing if the concrete and rebar hadn't already been weakened.

"Hold it down!" Jack ordered, gesturing for the former passengers to apply their weight to the rear end of the car. The driver and front seat passenger was still in the car, both clinging terrified to the dash.

Once the car seemed stabilized, Jack approached the car, leaning forward with a careful eye down to the crumbling concrete. He refused to acknowledge the brown waves far below. "What's your name?"

"Karen," she answered, refusing to look at him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," the woman said, her hands wrapped around the steering wheel in a death grip.

"Okay," Jack said. "Can you undo the seat belt?"

She shook her head and her passenger reached over, releasing it for her. "Can you move?" Jack asked him.

"Yeah," he said. "Ed, by the way."

"Okay, Ed. Nice to meet you. Now, I need you to SLOWLY work your way to the back seat.  You're gonna slip back there, then you're gonna slide out that window. Got it?"

"Got it," Ed answered.

Jack stood there while Ed followed his directions and escaped from the car. "Okay, Karen, it's your turn," he said.

"I don't know if I can," she said.

"I know you can," Jack said, reaching in to wrap his hand around her arm. "As a matter of fact, we're going to do things a bit differently. I want you to reach down and tilt that steering wheel up. Then, you ever see the Dukes of Hazard?"

"What?"

"Dukes of Hazard. The General Lee? Those boys sliding in and out the car window?"  
  
"I don't think I can," she said, finally glancing at him.

"You can," Jack reassured her. He looked at the people at the rear of the car, pleased to see a few more standing there. He raised his voice so that they could hear him. "These folks back there are going to stabilize the car, you, Karen, are going to help me by scooting that seat back, then you're gonna use your legs to push yourself up and help me pull you out the window."

"We're gonna fall."

"No! We're not," Jack said. "Now, work with me here," he said, tightening his grip on her arm.

She nodded and reached down, maneuvering the seat back. Jack helped to steady her as she pushed herself up, twisting her body to get out the window. When Jack could reach her right arm, he grabbed and leaned back, trying to pull her out the window. The car shifted a bit and Karen panicked, her fingers digging into his arms. Jack felt another presence behind him and suddenly two more people appeared one grabbing Jack's belt, the other trying to help with Karen. 

She slid free from the car and the four of them fell into a tangled heap. More people appeared and dragged Jack and Karen away from the widening hole. "Let it go!" he heard. He looked up just in time to see the people at the rear of the car letting it go. The gray sedan teetered for a moment and then fell forward with a bone chilling groan, sliding through the hole to splash into the Mississippi river a few seconds later.

Breathing hard, and his hands shaking from adrenaline, Jack let the people help him to his feet.

"Dude!" Aaron appeared at his side. "That was awesome!"

Jack glared at the man. "You need to get out more often," he said, patting the man's arm. "Abandon the cars!" Jack yelled. He looked at Aaron. "We need to get across on foot. Get them lined up, single file." He looked up at the sky, his stomach lurching at the sight of meteors starting to fall off to the East. They had only minutes before they'd be under bombardment. "NOW!"

Motivated by fear, those remaining on the East side of the bridge hurried to follow his commands, a few going back for possessions, others simply taking off at a run from where they stood. Jack saw Ed and handed Karen off to him. "Get her over there," he said.

As the rain of meteors drew closer, the small band of survivors ran for their lives.

 

::::::::::

 

 

"Entering Earth's orbit," Major Marks said, glancing back at her.

"Put it on screen," she ordered, steeling herself for the moment of truth.

He flipped a switch and she felt a wave of horror, disbelief and shock roll over the bridge. It was red. The beautiful, serene blue and white ball was gone and, in its place, was an angry seething mass of red and black and gray. 

"Put us over the eastern seaboard of the US," she ordered, sliding out of her chair to step towards the massive screen. She faced her crew, relieved to finally be briefing them on the information she and her executive officers had kept secret for days. 

"Ship wide communications open," Marks said.

"Four days ago, we received a coded SOS from Earth.  SatCom had picked up several inbound bogies. As it turns out, it wasn't an enemy attack, rather a series of asteroids. Normally, the asteroid belt around Earth is pretty stable, but one theory put forth has suggested that when Atlantis landed on Earth, it disrupted  things just enough to start a chain reaction, knocking hundreds of the asteroids out of orbit and on a collision course with Earth." 

"Less than a day after they were discovered, Earth suffered its first impact. And it was the first of many. If any of you are familiar with the Shoemaker-Levy comet hitting Jupiter in 94, you'll remember that it was a series of impacts, over a wide area and about a week's time. It looks like that's what's happened here." She pointed at the screen. "And what might still be happening," she said, picking out a cluster of tiny shapes orbiting the planet. 

She looked at the screen, trying to find some bit of familiarity in the roiling mass of clouds. "From the data we've collected, the damage seems to be quite severe. I'm going to presume that you all are familiar with the 'asteroid killed the dinosaurs' theory. Scientists term that an extinction level event." She gestured towards the screen. "It probably looked a lot like this." She looked at her crew, anticipating their questions.  "We received the SOS days ago, but we just couldn't get here in time to do anything. Neither could the Odyssey or Daedalus," she explained. "And the Apollo is currently working to salvage the Sun Tzu. The standing orders of this ship, and the others, from the day they were commissioned, was to help evacuate Earth if something like this happened. Your CO's will be briefing you further on specific assignments." 

She motioned to Marks and he cut off the intraship. "Evac the planet?" Sergeant Simms asked. "With all due respect, ma'am, how are we supposed to evac a whole planet?"

"Presuming we can access Cheyenne Mountain, we beam any survivors we find there and they gate to one of our off world bases. If we can't access the SGC, we fill this ship, jump into hyperspace and get them to safety. Obviously, the first option is the most efficient. Our main concern, however, is continuity of government." She nodded and Marks brought up a display. "Located in and around Washington, D.C., there are about ninety bunkers. They were made for just this purpose and civilian leadership was supposed to use them as shelters. Our mission is to find them, get any survivors to the SGC or off this planet. We'll use the life form scanners to search the bunkers from space, and only go down if it's safe and absolutely necessary."

"What about Atlantis?" Sergeant Wilkins asked.

"As far as we know, Atlantis is still in one piece. In anticipation of the attack, and lacking another planet to take her to, they would have moved the city out to deep water, hoping that its shields would protect it," she answered.

"Why don't we shoot the asteroids?" Lieutenant Hendricks asked.

Sam shook her head. "We don't have the weapons to vaporize them and any sort of near miss will just alter and expand the impact zone," she explained. 

"So we scan the bunkers and beam up anyone that's alive?' Simms asked.

Sam nodded. "Doctor Woolley and his staff are on alert. We'll convert our empty fighter bay into a makeshift dormitory and holding area for the survivors." 

"What if they're not in the bunkers?" Marks asked. "I mean, what if someone is …outside one."

"The only way we can verify their identity is to beam them up," Sam said. "And if we get a survivor on this ship, I'm not beaming them back down. That said, if all these bunkers are filled to capacity, we could have hundreds of survivors. They are our duty and they come first."

The mood changed a bit and she looked down for a second. "Look, I know this is a shock for everyone. I know that you have families and loved ones down there. So do I. But we have a job to do. And while our primary focus is the bunkers, the Odyssey and Daedalus – once they arrive – don't have that same goal. They will be focusing on military and civilian personnel. For a lot of people down there, we are their only hope. And we will not let them down."

She retook her chair, signaling the end of the. It was time to get down to business.

"We're over the target, ma'am," Marks reported.

"Full sensor sweep, maximum strength. If anyone is alive down there, we're going to find him."

 

::::::::

 

Sam walked through the fighter bay, her eyes skittering over shocked face after shocked face. They were pale and dirty, tired and sad. They were dressed in a variety of clothing, uniforms and office attire, some wore BDUs that were so ill fitting that they had to be borrowed from whatever stores the bunkers had.

Doctor Woolley and his people walked amongst the pallets and cots, assessing the survivors and treating them as best they could.

"Ma'am," Simms said, walking up to her hand holding out a clipboard. "A list of the survivors," he said.

"Thank you, Sergeant." Sam took the clipboard from him and studied the names, regretting that she hadn't paid more attention when Jack had talked about his staff. A name she thought was familiar popped off the page and she turned to Simms. "Where is this person?" she asked.

Simms looked at the name and frowned. "Over there, I think," he said, his face coloring slightly. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't know we were looking for anyone in particular."

"It's okay, Sergeant," Sam replied.

Sam made her way over to where Simms had pointed out. As she walked through the survivors, it struck her how familiar it was. She'd witnessed this so many times before. Dirty faces marked with loss and grief, gratitude at being alive warring with guilt over those left behind or lost. 

People clutching their few possessions close, clinging to the silliest of items simply because they needed something to cling to. But, instead of wooden tools or hand sewn articles of clothing, these people clung to briefcases and handbags.

These weren't Edorans, Enkarans, Jaffa or Tok'ra. They weren't aliens seeking shelter on an alien planet, but humans fleeing a death that rained down from the sky.

"Lieutenant Martin?" she asked, seeing the name she was looking for.

"Colonel?" Martin said, getting to her feet. 

"Please." Sam motioned for her to sit back down. The lieutenant had been injured; a fresh white bandage was wrapped around her left arm.  "Can you tell me what happened?"

The woman nodded, the hair that Sam remembered being coiled into a neat chignon hanging loose over her shoulders. "We had about twelve hours notice, but I don't think anyone beyond Homeworld Security and the President knew, for a while anyway. They didn't start evacuations until about four hours before the first impacts."

Sam nodded. "Do you know if General O'Neill made it out?"

Martin shook her head. "I don't think so, ma'am. He wasn't in the office."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean? Was he at the SGC?"

"No, ma'am. A couple of days before it all started, he said he needed to get away."

"Where did he go?"

"Only Sergeant Harriman knew for sure, but we all figured he'd headed to his cabin," she said.

"You didn't know?"

"He didn't use military transport, ma'am. He checked a vehicle out of the motor pool and just left."

Sam closed her eyes and sighed. "Of course he did," she said.

"We tried to contact him once we got word of the inbound bogies, but he never answered his phone. We tried to look, ma'am, we really did, but then things got crazy and…we just had so much else going on that we couldn't keep looking."

"I understand, Lieutenant," Sam said. 

"What about his transponder, ma'am?" she asked.

"Lieutenant?"

"Don't all members of the SGC have subcutaneous transponders?"

"He never got one," Sam said. "In fact, he refused. Called them too big brotherish." Sam fought the urge to rub her upper arm where her transponder was inserted. She hadn't liked getting one either even though having one had saved her life a few times.

"I’m sorry, ma'am, I wish I could tell you more," Martin said. "We tried to contact him, but then our focus was to try and get out a cry for help. We all hoped that you'd make it here soon enough to blast some of the rocks out of the sky."

Sam ignored the tiny note of accusation in the woman's voice. "I wish we would have been here too," Sam said. She didn't try to explain to her the real vastness of space and the impossibility of just how far away they were. That it all boiled down to physics, distance and maximum speed and the impossibility of going any faster than your ship could possibly go. That real life was nothing like the TV shows where miracles happened in a commercial break. 

"We have some more bunkers to clear out, so things might get a little crowded in here."

"Have you heard from the SGC?" Martin asked.

"Just enough to know they're still there and operational. We haven't communicated beyond that. As soon as we get the bunkers clear, I'll get all of you to the SGC and you can gate off-world."

"Really?" Martin asked, paling a bit. "Through the…Stargate," she whispered.

"Yeah, through the Stargate," Sam said, not whispering. She smiled at the woman. "I think it's fair to say that it's no longer classified." She got to her feet. "If you need anything, just let Sergeant Simms know."

Martin got to her feet. "Ma'am, I was wondering…my family lives in New Orleans…"

"I don't know," Sam said. "I'm sorry. The debris in the atmosphere is obscuring our sensors and none of Earth's satellites can see through it."

"Maybe a plane?"

Sam shook her head. "Nothing can fly, the air is too thick. When we get to the SGC, I'll see if I can talk to President Hayes and see what we can come up with. You're not the only person wondering about your family and home."

"Yes, ma'am, thank you."

Sam patted her arm and left the hanger bay.

 

::::::::

 

Jack stared into the fire, trying to recall his memories of Kansas. Around him the refugees were gathered in small groups. It was now nighttime in Saint Louis and his band of refugees were bunked down in the depths of Busch Stadium. Around him, most were sleeping, replete with scavenged hot dogs and beer from the concession stores. The corridors, while too open for Jack's peace of mine in a tactical sense, allowed enough air circulation to allow for small fires. 

"Why so down?" Aaron asked, munching through a bag of chips. "We all made it."

"We lost ten cars," Jack said.

"So, we'll find more."   
  
Jack shook his head. "It won't be that easy," he said. "Every day that the rocks fall is more damage. It's getting harder and harder to find intact cars and supplies."

"We'll hit another parking garage," Aaron said, shrugging.

"It could take us hours to find cars we can steal. Anything that has an alarm or keyless is useless."

"We have time," Aaron said. "I think Kansas City is just a few hours away, assuming that's our next stop."

"Which means if we can't find cars and get on the road by nine, we won't make it," Jack said.

"So we find somewhere else," Aaron said, doggedly determined to be positive.

"Aaron, the damage is cumulative. Every hole in a structure makes it weaker. If this keeps up, in a few more days this whole stadium could come down. And that applies to any building," Jack said. "We have to drive slower and slower because the roads are getting worse. If it wasn't for this place having a generator, there wouldn't be any edible food here. Supplies are getting scarcer and once we get past Kansas City there is nothing but open prairie for over five hundred miles."

"What are you saying?" Frank asked, joining their conversation.

"We can probably make it to Kansas City, but I don't know how to get this group across Kansas if these rocks keep falling," Jack said.

"Won't help come," a woman asked. "I mean, someone has to come."

"Eventually," Jack said. "But not until after the meteors stop."

"Why not? They have to know that there are people that need help out here."  
  
"They know," Jack said. "Look, they know that there are people here that need help, but they also have finite resources."

"What the hell does that mean?" a man demanded. 

"It means if they come in here in a truck and break the axel hitting a hole in the road, there are no replacements. We're not going to get much help until the skies clear," Jack said.

"Like with ambulance drivers?" Frank said. Jack frowned at him. "My brother is an EMT. The cops won't let them help people if the situation isn't secure."

"Same premise," Jack said. He looked around him and raised his voice a bit. "There's no way to get anything in by air, there's too much crap in the atmosphere. It means that they have to come in by ground. We have no way to know how wide this zone is. They just can't get here. We are on our own."

"What if we just hang out here," a man suggested. "We have food, water, shelter."

"Have you looked out on the field, man?" another said. "There's a hole out there big enough too lose a car in. One of those big rocks hits the roof, we're all dead."

"Would someplace underground be safe?" a woman asked, stepping forward.

"What do you know?" Jack asked.

"There's a place in KC. It's called Subtropolis. It's an old limestone mine that they've turned into offices and storage."

Jack shook his head. "Mines are too dangerous."

"This one isn't," she said. "It's not deep, not like the salt mines in Hutchinson. You can drive right into it."

"I know that place," another person said. "It's like over a hundred feet down, but you drive in. It's not like a crowded narrow mine."

"Do you know how to get there?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Okay," Jack said. "First light we go out and get some cars or busses or something. We need to be on the road as soon as we can."

He pushed aside his misgivings about the future. It seemed to be working to take things one step at a time. And one day at a time. He'd worry about Kansas once they got through Missouri.

 

::::::::

 

Sam heard a knock and looked up, motioning for Doctor Woolley to come in. "How's it going?" she asked, gesturing for him to sit down.

"As well as can be expected, I think," he said. He sat down with a soft sigh that spoke of exhaustion, that she knew had to be more than just physical. "We've brought on 185 survivors. Some with minor injuries, a few with more serious ones, lacerations, broken bones, etc. Nothing we can't handle."

"Good."

"Not totally. We have six critical, three of which I don't expect to make it through the night," he reported.

Sam nodded grimly, honestly surprised that the numbers weren't worse. "I'll find out from the SGC what they're doing with the dead."

"How are they doing?"

Sam shook her head. "Not good. General Landry hasn't been heard of since soon after the first impact. There were a few 302's on the ground at Nellis and they've been flying recon. The East coast took a direct hit, as did the West Coast. There have been several tsunamis and, to make things even more interesting, it seems that the force of the impacts have caused some major seismic disturbances. There have been some earthquakes. Yellowstone and Mount Saint Helens are erupting."

Woolley whistled. "Is there a natural disaster that's going on down there?"

Sam grimaced. "The SGC is caught in the middle. Anyone that can has moved their assets out of the impact zone until things settle down."

"How long?"

Sam shook her head. "We don't know and honestly, can't even guess."

He nodded. "I'll have my people take photos and fingerprints of any deceased. If we manage to salvage any records, we can ID them that way."

"With the instability of the SGC, I think it's best if we beam people down, preferably right to the gateroom or at least on level 28, minimize the people herding."

"Any ETA on when that'll be?"

"I think, given that these people have been trapped in those bunkers for a week now, we should give priority to getting them up here and safe rather than losing time going back and forth to Colorado with small batches," she said. "We'll off load only when we can't hold anymore."

He nodded. "I concur. Those bunkers may work for survival, but not for much beyond that. I would guess that in another few days, they'll just be fancy tombs." He got to his feet. "With your permission, ma'am?"

"Granted. One more thing. Once we get the survivors off planet, we'll be raiding some supply depots. Please let me know if you or your people need supplies before then."

"Yes, ma'am." He walked towards the door and turned back. "One more thing from me."

"Yes?"

"Given the extremely emotional and stressful nature of this situation, I'd like to stress the need for the crew – and her commander," he said pointedly. "To eat and rest."

"Point taken," Sam said, not offended. "Just make sure that the doctor gets the memo too."

He left and she sat back in her chair, sighing as she leaned back. Her eyes wandered to the computer screen, idly watching as the data scrolled past. She should be interested. She should be fascinated. This was the case study of a lifetime, the opportunity to confirm long held theories. But all she could think of was the cost. The fact that every byte of data represented a landmark destroyed, a species extinct, a life lost.

A person missing.

The valiant Tau'ri, victors over the Goa'uld, victors over the Ori, masters of the universe…were now going to be a scattered and rag tag bunch of refugees.

"Are you the commander?" A voice broke into her contemplations and Sam looked up, frowning at the sight of a stranger at her door. The man was dressed in what used to be a good suit, but was now dirty and torn. His tie was missing, his shirt stained and his hair was dull with dust and dirt. 

"I'm Colonel Carter," she said, getting to her feet. Sergeant Morgan appeared in the doorway, clearly in pursuit of the man and Sam waved him back. "And you are?"

"Bob Kendall. Senator Robert Kendall," he said, emphasizing the title.

"Senator, welcome to the Hammond."

"We need to go to San Diego," he said.

"No, sir, right now—"

"I don't care about now," he interrupted. "I need you to take this ship to San Diego."

"No," she repeated. "We have about forty more bunkers to check and then my orders are to get you and the other survivors to Cheyenne Mountain for evacuation off the planet."

"Colonel, unless I missed someone down in your flight bay, I'm the ranking person on this ship and I order you to go to San Diego," he blustered.

Sam walked around her desk. "With all due respect, sir, I understand that they did have time to get President Hayes to the Alpha Site. So, I'm afraid that you're not in charge," she said firmly. She studied him, noting the look of desperation on his face, the uncertainty in his eyes. "Your family is in San Diego," she said.

He gaped at her. "How?"

"You're not the first," she said. She turned her computer monitor around and stretched for the keyboard, typing in a few commands. The data flickered away and was replaced by another image.

"The Hammond was pressed into service before she got her full compliment of 302 fighters. They were at Nellis which received very little damage. Fortunately, some of the pilots were already there and they've been able to use them to get a full picture of the damage. Their engine design and shields allow them to fly in the clogged up atmosphere that Earth has right now. They've also been noting the location of survivors so that when the other ships get here, they'll have a list of locations to go to and won't have to waste precious time looking for people." 

She flipped to another screen. "We've identified hundreds of impact sites around the world. Some very small and localized, others frighteningly large. San Diego took a direct hit." She pointed at one area in the image. "That was the naval yards."

She looked over at him, seeing the shock and horror on his face as he stared at the complete devastation on the screen. What used to be a picturesque view of the city now resembled a photo of the city dump, a city dump on fire. She tapped the corner of the image. "My brother and his family used to live there. My husband should have been in those bunkers, but for some reason he was away from DC when it happened and no one knows where he is. And believe me, I want nothing more than to take this ship down there and tear the planet apart until I find him. But I can't do that, because the other ships are still days away and there are people down in the bunkers dying as we talk, not to mention the civilians, MILLIONS of civilians on the surface that are dealing with fires and contaminated water and earthquakes and floods and volcanic eruptions and this ship is the ONLY chance they have to live through this. Senator, I'm sorry but what I have to do now is finish checking the COG sites and get you off this planet. Then we can turn our attention to civilian survivors."

He nodded solemnly, his desperation replaced by grim acceptance. "What do you need?"

"The 302's are searching for survivors. But, I'm afraid after almost a week of impacts and firestorms, earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanic eruptions, it's not looking good." She pulled up a graphic of the world. "There are a few places that have suffered significantly less damage around the world, but I'm afraid the US was hard hit." She leaned against her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "We know that there was some warning. Do you know what areas were evacuated? Or where the people were sent?"

He shook his head. "The first two hit just off the East coast. Between the blast and tsunami, we lost pretty much everything. The nationwide EAS went down, so if anyone evacuated, they did it on their own." He sighed. "Colonel, we had no warning. Just a few hours notice that Armageddon was headed our way."

"I understand," she said. "Senator, it's going to take us a few more hours to check and evacuate the COG sites. We don't have anything fancy, but I suggest that you get something to eat and get some rest. We could use your help with the beam down to the SGC. There's a bunch of very shocked and traumatized people that have just lost their homes and families. Right about the time they start to process that they're on a space ship, we're going to beam them down and send them of to another planet. A calm leadership presence might be helpful."

"I'll do what I can," he promised.

"Colonel, we have Colonel Reynolds from the SGC on the line for you," she heard Marks say.

"If you'll excuse me, Senator." He left and Sam sat down at her desk. "Put him through," she said. A few seconds later, Walter's face popped up on the screen. "Walter, how's it going?"

"Colonel. As well as it can be expected," he answered. "Let me get the colonel…the other colonel, on for you." 

Sam nodded and waited until the familiar face of her ex-comrade appeared. "Colonel Reynolds."

"Carter. Do you have a status report?"

"We've checked out about half the bunkers and have almost two hundred survivors on board."

"Damn. There should be twice that many," he said.

"I know. According to one of them, the EAS went down with the first strike. I'm thinking a lot of those that made it were the ones that took it upon themselves to evac." 

He nodded. "Injuries?"

"We have a few, most minor. Doctor Woolley reports that he has six critical, three of which may not survive."

"Okay. I'll have our medical coordinate their transfer when you arrive."

"It'll be a few more hours," she said. "Given the low numbers and how long people have been in the bunkers, Woolley has suggested that they may not hold out much longer."

"Our gate is in the same boat," he said. "The earthquake damage was worse than we thought."

"How bad is it?" Sam asked, pulling up the sensor data. She knew that they had been collecting information on the earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, but their focus had been life signs.

"I have a few eggheads still arguing over how strong it was, but we now have faults around here acting up that the USGS didn't even know existed. Siler is working his ass off, but NORAD has already evac'd due to structural instability."

"What about your people?"

"We sent the non-essential personnel through a few days ago," he reported. "Although that wasn't in concern about the roof collapsing. If you're going to be delivering hundreds or maybe thousands of survivors, I thought we should have the Alpha and Beta sites ready to accept them. Not to mention checking with a few of our allies to see if they can help."

"Good idea," she agreed. "Have you heard from Atlantis?"

He shook his head. "They've been out of radio contact since the first impact. If they followed the protocol, they should be somewhere between San Francisco and Hawaii."

"We've been concentrating our scans looking for life forms but I can ask the 302's to take a look and see if they can find it."

"If our gate fails, can we use theirs as a backup?"

Sam shook her head. "I can't beam in with their shields up, and given the atmosphere I don't know if they can lower them. Worst case scenario, they may have to abandon the city or remain trapped here until we can find another habitable world with enough water to move them to."

"I could have the techs go over the SGC's files, see if there's one out there," Reynolds offered. "Surely out of the thousands we've been to, one of them could work, even for the short term."

"Sounds good," Sam said. "I'll keep with my original plan to clean out the bunkers. Let me know if your situation changes and we need to divert."

"Copy that."

"Colonel," Sam said quickly. "I was wondering—"

He smiled, anticipating her question. "SG-1 is helping with the Evac and searching for other planets we can colonize," he reported. "I don't know for sure who's where, but they made it off world." He looked down. "I'm afraid we still haven't heard anything from General O'Neill."

"That's what I figured," she said, well aware that the man would have called her if Jack had shown up. "He might have gone to the cabin. As soon as the COG sites are clear, we're going to check it out."

"I'll let you know the second I hear something," Reynolds promised. "SGC out."

Sam cut her connection and sat back in her chair, closing her eyes as she pushed her fingers through her hair. There was so much that needed to be done, so much going on. So much destruction and death and tragedy. And there was so little they could do. No matter how many they saved, it'd never be enough. Even if the Odyssey and Daedalus was here and beaming up survivors, they would never save enough. Even if the Sun Tsu and Apollo….hell, Earth could have hundreds of space ships and they'd never be able to save everyone. People were dying by the minute all over the world, even in countries that hadn't suffered any impacts. It was as if every doomsday scenario dreamed up was happening all at once, as if the universe itself was reaching out and dealing the planet a death's blow.

Perhaps fate was angry at them, vengeful for all the times they'd tempted it, changed it, totally rewritten its plans.  Maybe this was some sort of cosmic payback for a decade of last minute saves and miracle outcomes.

It was as if a giant scale was being equalized, lives saved being taken out in kind.

Flashes of destruction played across her mind's eye, images captured and supplied by the 302 pilots. A fountain of lava streaming down the side of Vesuvius, so different from the bubbling cauldron that was now Yellowstone. Shattered buildings and piles of rubble that were now all that was left of many of the world's cities. The dead left where they lay, aid workers barely able to help the living much less devote precious energy and resources to the dead.

And Jack was down there in the middle of it. He had to be down there. She refused to consider anything else. He couldn't be dead. He just…the man had more lives than a cat and she refused to even consider that he was lying down there, an abandoned and rotting corpse.

Pushing away the gory image, she opened her eyes and took a breath. "Where there's a will, there's an or," she whispered.  "You god damn well better not die on me, Jack O'Neill." She stared at the monitor and the chaos below. "I'll kick your ass into the next galaxy."

Pushing herself up from her desk, she took a second to straighten her uniform before she left the refuge of her office. She, and her crew, had a job to do.

 

:::::::::::::::

 

"Not bad," Jack said, surveying his surroundings. The manmade cave he was standing in was indeed roomy and spacious. In fact, it almost made the SGC look crowded and depressing. 

Subtropolis had sixteen foot tall ceilings and corridors wide enough to park three cars abreast and still have room. There were a few ventilation shafts but Jack honestly felt that they could get by without them, or maybe that they were to handle the exhaust fumes of vehicles.  Unlike a typical mine, Subtropolis had multiple entrances, so there was good air flow. 

"I remember hearing that they stored stuff here, like frozen food and such," Lori said.

Jack turned to Frank. "Gather some volunteers, teams of three. Find a map or inventory and check it out. We may be here for the long haul and I need to know what we have."

"On it," Frank said.

Jack turned to Aaron. "We're gonna need some fire wood. Gather some people and go scout the area for deadfall." He pointed at the ventilation shaft. "Any fires need to be away from the cars, but by a shaft. It'll be a natural chimney."

"Gotcha," Aaron said. 

"Keep an eye on the clock," Jack called after him. "Fire is a luxury not a necessity. No one needs to get killed over it."

Aaron left and Jack took a few moments to explore his surroundings. As refuges went, Subtropolis was probably as good as it could be. It was safely underground but accessible. The multiple entrances not only aided with ventilation but it also lessened the chances of anyone getting trapped if there was some sort of cave in.

But it also meant if there was anyone out there that had hostile intent, they wouldn't have much of a defense against it. And he knew that things would get worse before they'd get better. There was no way that they were the only survivors. Nor could they be the only ones left in the impact zone.  People would come. That was inevitable. Some would be 'nice', so to speak. But others wouldn't.

And, as far as he knew, the only weapon they had was his service weapon.

He ducked around a corner and leaned against the wall, sighing as he scrubbed his hands over his face. He missed his team. Right now, if they were with him, Teal'c would be assessing the perimeter. Daniel would communicate with the refugees and Carter would probably be seeing if she could MacGyver some weapon.

Not that some of the refugees might not be capable, but Jack didn't know them. And he didn't trust them. Not the way he trusted his team.  
  
"But they're not here," Jack muttered to himself, opening his eyes. Teal'c was probably off world and, if he was lucky, so was Daniel. Carter definitely was off world; in fact she and her ship were probably speeding back here right now. Presuming they'd had time to get a mayday out. 

He had to believe that help was coming. And he had to keep them believing that help was coming.

He heard raised voices and he pushed himself off the wall, leaving his refuge. "What's going on?" he asked.

"It's snowing," a woman said, hitching her baby up on her hip.

"It's July, it can't be snow," a man contradicted her.

Jack hurried past them, heading for the main entrance. It was almost two o'clock, so he wondered if the 'snow' was some sort of other phenomenon. He reached the entrance just as Aaron and his crew were coming inside. All six of the men had grayish white powder dusting their heads and shoulders. Jack walked past them and stepped outside, belatedly noticing Aaron joining him. "This isn't good, is it?" he asked.

Jack shook his head. "No, it's not."

Above him, the dark sky was dotted with small floating dots. Jack held out his hand and caught a few of the flakes. He rubbed them between his palm and fingers, cursing when he felt grit under his finger.

"What is it?" Aaron asked.

"Ash," Jack said, remembering the last time he'd seen the heavens rain down 'dirt', way back on the original Tollan home world. He looked at Aaron. "Somewhere, a volcano is erupting." Jack wiped his palm off on his pants and sighed. "We need to seal off the entrances," he said, half wondering if he was giving an order that would save lives, or doom all these people to a slow and lingering death, entombed and buried alive.

 

:::::::

 

"We're over the target area," Marks reported. He glanced back at Sam. "Sensor readings look good."

Sam nodded. "You have the bridge," she said, getting out of her chair. He merely nodded and Sam left the bridge, making her way down to the transporter room. She got there to find Doctor Woolley waiting along with three other crewmen.

"Doctor?" Sam frowned at him.

"I thought it was time to get some fresh air," he said, his voice deliberately casual.

Sam met his gaze, seeing through his lie but unwilling to call him on it. "Thank you," she said.

She stepped up on the transporter pad and waited for the others to do the same before nodding to the tech. A familiar tingle washed over her skin and she blinked against the bright light, opening her eyes to see a scene of utter devastation.

Instead of lush green fir trees and swaying grasses, she saw blackened skeletons, some lying on the ground, but others standing silent sentinel to tragedy, their bare branches providing no shelter from the ominous sky. It was dark, thanks to the clouds and they used flashlights to help them see.

The grass was gone and only dried ashes crunched under Sam's boots. The lake still had water in it but its surface was clogged with debris and the bobbing corpses of fish. It was silent, almost oppressively so. There were no birds, no loons crying across the lake.

"Are there fires everywhere?" Woolley asked as Sam picked her way towards the husk of the cabin.

It too had burned, and only a blackened chimney and the charred remains of the fridge and stove stood upright. The roof had fallen in and taken most of the walls with it. It looked like a giant fist reached down from heaven and smashed their tiny refuge.

"No," Sam answered, trying to get her bearings. Smoke hung thick in the air, but it wasn't the welcoming scent of wood smoke, rather tinged with the acrid stink of burned chemicals and melted plastics. "But there have been a lot of fires," she said, glancing at him. "It all depends on where and how the meteor impacts." She looked around. "It's been dry up here. Jack joked that they only had nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-eight lakes left."

"Someone was here," one of the men said, shining his flashlight at a wreck of a car. The vehicle was charred so badly that she couldn't even determine a color.

"Looks like the gas tank blew," Woolley said. He motioned for the men to search the cabin. "Is there a shelter or—"  
  
"No," Sam said. "There isn't even a cellar."

She picked her way into the remains of the cabin, aiming for the fire place. Something glinted and she knelt down, brushing the ash away to reveal a frame, the glass and metal protecting the picture inside.

A smile crept across her face as she traced the outlines of the two of them on their wedding day. It was an informal photo, taken at the small reception after the ceremony. The two of them were standing in the corner of the room and she remembered that Jack had just told her a very off color joke.

"Doc."

Sam looked up to see Woolley hurry across the ruins, kneeling down where the man indicated. She started his way, knowing what he found, but having to see it for herself. As she got close, Woolley stood up and turned to face her, blocking her way.

"Doctor."

"You don't want to see this," he said.

"It's hardly the first body I've ever seen," she said, her hand clutching the photo.

He nodded towards it. "That's how you want to remember him," he said.

She contemplated fighting him for about half a second, then she sighed. "Okay," she acquiesced.

He nodded. "We have a body bag and—"

"No," Sam interrupted. She looked around. "If he had to pick somewhere to spend eternity, it'd be here." She blinked, an idea occurring to her. She couldn't just leave him. "There's a pile of rocks around back. He kept talking about building a barbeque."  
  
"We'll take care of it," he said. 

She took a deep breath. "He had a safe under the floor boards by the fire place. I'm not sure about everything he kept in it, but we need to take that. If he had anything classified up here, it was in there." She looked at the charred ruins. "Nothing else matters."

Woolley nodded. "Why don't you give us about half an hour, Colonel?"

She nodded and turned away, slowly walking out of the cabin. She ambled along the shoreline, pausing when she stumbled across a place that held a memory. There was the large bolder she liked to sit on and read a book as she sunned herself. Up ahead was the large tree where a pair of eagles sometimes nested.

She knelt down by the water's edge, ignoring the debris floating on the surface. She picked up a small flat stone.

 

_"I once got one all the way across the lake," Jack said, leaning over to flick a flat stone across the still surface of the lake. It was just barely after dawn and the ethereal mist hovering over the lake was tinged the slightest shade of pink. A mother loon and her chicks paddled across the water, sending tiny v shaped wakes out over the water's surface._

_"All the way across the lake, huh?" Sam asked, kneeling down to choose her rock._

_"Yep," Jack bragged. "Skittered right up onto the shore and spooked a loon."_

_She grinned, not in the mood to bicker. He loved his tall tales, and she had fun indulging him, sometimes for no other reason than to see how far he'd take it._

_"Did you know, if that was anything other than water, stones would never skip across it," she said, sending her rock hopping across the surface. "Water is totally unique and totally wrong in how it reacts. Surface tension is why we have rain drops."_

_"Mmhm," he muttered, standing back with his hands in his pockets._

_"In fact," she continued. "If water was 'normal', it'd get heavier when it froze, not lighter and lakes would freeze from the bottom up rather than the top down."_

_"That'd kill the hockey season," he said._

_She laughed, abandoning the rocks to stand at his side, entwining her hand in his._

 

Sam knelt down and picked up a stone, hooking her finger around it before she sent it skipping across the lake. It skipped three times before it hit a piece of debris and sank.   
She closed her eyes for a second and then looked back towards the cabin. Seeing that they were done, she bent down and picked up another rock before she made her way back to the cabin, the picture frame still clutched in her arms.

She could see that they were done building the cairn and only Woolley stood close by while the other three busied themselves removing the safe. Sam ignored Woolley and knelt beside the cairn, taking a few moments of silence before she laid the rock from the lakeside on top of the pile already there.

She looked up and saw that the men were done with the small safe and had carried it out of the ruins. They were standing beside it, waiting for her. "Colonel, if you want to be alone," Woolley said.

Sam shook her head. "That's okay," she said, getting to her feet. "There's nothing left for me here."

He stayed by her side as she made her way over to the others. Once there, she keyed her radio and transported back up to her ship.

 

:::::::::::

 

"I figure if they can keep the dust from the mining under control, they should work for the ash," Frank said, showing off his work. Large plastic sheets now hung over each entrance, effectively blocking the ash and turning the mine openings into some sort of freakish massive window.

"They actually have some air scrubbers," said Bill. He was one of the men helping Frank and Aaron to secure Subtropolis.

"I think they were originally meant for the dust but…hey, if it works," Aaron said.

"There's food and water. I think the only thing we're really missing is bedding and clothes."

"Will we need it?" Kevin asked. "It'd just be more to pack. What we really could use is a few more cars."

Jack looked at the dozen or so people gathered around him and knew that it was time to talk to them about his plans. "We're not leaving," he said.

"What do you mean not leaving?" Aaron asked. "We can't stay here."

"You can and you will," Jack said. He jerked his thumb towards the exit. "Have you ever dealt with volcanic ash?" The men shook their heads. "It's abrasive. It'll destroy every air filter out there. If you breathe it in, it tears up your lungs. There's no way we can take all those people out there."

"We can't stay in here forever," Bill said. "The supplies will only hold out for so long."

"I know," Jack said. "I know somewhere to go for help. The thing is, as a group we'll never make it." He looked around. "If I go, I can make it there in a day."

"You want to leave us here?"

"Here is safe," Jack said. "Look, I don't know which volcano is erupting, but the prevailing wind is from the west, which means the ash is gonna get worse the further we go."

"And you think you can make it?" Bill asked.

"What the hell is out there, anyway?" Frank asked.

"Rescue," Jack said. "People are safe here. And they will remain safe here for a few days, maybe even a few weeks."

"You said before that rescue would come. We'll just wait for it."

"We can't guarantee that they'll find us," Jack said. He pointed towards the ceiling. "The same thing that's protecting us from the meteors might also make us hard to find. If I can get there, I'll make sure they know there are people here."

"Or you're saving your own ass," one of the men growled.

"If he was saving his own ass, you'd all be back in Iowa," Aaron said. 

"If I honestly thought we'd all make it, I'd be out there finding cars to carry everyone," Jack said. "The truth of the matter is, we won't." He looked at them.  "And I think you all know it. This is the only real shelter between here and Colorado. In a best case scenario, we could make it in one day." He raised his voice. "IN A PERFECT WORLD. With fully functioning cars, with intact roads. We have none of that. What we have is over six hundred miles of open prairie, daily meteor showers, roads and bridges with more holes in them than Swiss cheese and abrasive ash falling from the sky. Leaving this shelter is as good as signing our own death warrants."

"But you can make it?" Frank asked.

"If I go alone, I can move faster," Jack said. "I'll leave as soon as the rocks stop falling and travel all night."

"You said it was too dangerous to travel at night."

"For a group, yes, but not if I'm alone," Jack said.

"What makes you think you can survive," Frank asked.

Jack reached under his shirt and pulled out his dog tags. "Twenty years of Special Forces," he said. "I know where I'm going and I know how to get there. And I will bring help back."

"What do you need?" Bill said, looking at his companions. "Have you ever been to Pompeii?" he asked them. "I went there while I was in college. They thought they could hide underground and survive. All they left was a cave full of bones. He's gotten us this far, I'm willing to trust him the rest of the way."

"I need some sort of mask or protective gear," Jack said.

"Would a sporting goods store help?" Aaron said. "There's a Cabelas right down the road."

Jack nodded. "That should work."

"What about a bike?" Bill asked.

"What?"

"Motorcycle. We found two back in a room. Maybe they used them to get around in here or something. But, if the roads are bad, wouldn't a cycle be easier?"

"It would," Jack said, grateful for the ideas.

"We got a few hours before he can go, let's see what else we can come up with," Aaron said.

 

:::::::::::

 

Sam beamed back onto her ship, not surprised to find Major Marks waiting for her.  He seemed to make a habit of that, waiting for her after every one of her daily briefings at the SGC. She'd come to appreciate the man in the past couple of days. Since the cabin, he'd done a wonderful job of, well just being there. He'd seem to find the balance between staying out of her way and giving her space, and not fussing.

"Colonel."

"Major. If you would call Doctor Woolley and meet me in my office."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sam left the transporter room and made her way to her office where Marks and Woolley joined her just moments later. She motioned for them to take a seat. "The President has come back from the Alpha Site," she said.

"Is that safe?" Woolley asked. "We've seen the pictures; it's a mess down there."

Sam smiled. "That's why he's staying at Cheyenne Mountain. He doesn't want to be seen as a coward, hiding on another planet while the other world leaders handle things, but he also knows just how lucky he was to escape last time. That's why they'll keep him where he can be evac'd quickly. There's talk of giving the President a subcutaneous transponder but the Secret Service isn't too crazy about it, so no decision has been made yet."

"Have they made any decisions?" Woolley asked.

"A few," Sam said. "Everything west of the Mississippi has been declared a disaster zone. All the ships are going to coordinate in evacuating any survivors. Some will go to the Alpha site, others to any other countries that will accept the refugees. All US military forces will be evacuated to Atlantis. Right now, they're working on moving the city somewhere safe."

"Is Atlantis big enough?" Marks asked. 

"In five years, we've only explored a fraction of the city," Sam said. "Truth be told, it will be crowded. But given the damage across the country, there's really nowhere else for them to go. It's not like our forces can seek shelter in Canada," she said ironically.

"How are we going to handle the evacuations?" Woolley asked.

"That was the thing I wanted to talk to you about," Sam said. "I don't think there's a person on this ship that doesn't have family down there, you two included. I would like to offer to the crew the opportunity to help on the ground. Give them the chance to check on their families."

"To say good bye?" Woolley asked.

"If need be," Sam answered. She sighed. "It may be years before we have a clear picture of the death toll, and some will never be found or counted. There are whole towns and cities in Wyoming that simply don't exist anymore. Cities that took direct meteor strikes. Nothing down there will ever be the same again."

"Are we abandoning Earth?" Woolley asked.

"Earth, no. But it will be years before the US is totally habitable. And there are some that think an off world colony wouldn't be a bad thing."

Her computer beeped and Sam answered the summons. "Colonel, Colonel Reynolds asks you to come down to the SGC."

"Did he say what he needed?" Sam asked Sergeant Simms.

"No ma'am. Just for you to come down at your earliest convenience."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Sam closed the channel and looked at her officers. "I guess we'll continue this later. Major, if you and the doctor would work on a list of volunteers to go down and we'll do our best to fulfill those requests."

"What if we have some that want to stay?" Woolley asked.

"We'll probably have just as many that are ready to leave," Sam said. "I'll have to discuss it with the other ship commanders and with the President, but I'm sure we can work something out." She got up from her desk and the two men left. Sam retraced her path back to the transporter room, Woolley's words echoing in her brain. She knew that there would be some that would want to stay, that would feel the need to stay. And she knew that there were others that wanted nothing more than to leave. 

She counted herself in the latter group. And it was that desire that warred with her sense of duty. She, and her ship, was needed here. But she knew that she would not be needed forever. Or maybe her skills would be better served elsewhere. She found that prospect intriguing.

She entered the transporter room. "It looks like I'm going back to the SGC, Lieutenant," she said.

"Yes, ma'am."

Sam stepped up on the transporter pad and opened her eyes back in the familiar confines of Stargate Command. She breathed deep as soon as she materialized. There was something about the scent, as odd as it was to say that the heavily recycled and cleaned air had a scent that soothed her. It was home. And had been 'home' for too many years for her to ever totally forget it.

The smell, the taste, the sound, it calmed her like nothing else in the universe. 

"That was fast," Reynolds said, walking into the ante room they were using as a beam in point.

"Beck and call," she joked. "And your summons sounded important."

"You could say that." He motioned. "Walk with me."

They made their way through the familiar halls and Sam frowned, noticing some differences. Black suited men now roamed the halls, their non-descript black suits as good as a neon vest in making them stand out. "Has the Secret Service driven you nuts yet?" she asked.

"Just about," he said. "What do you think of the idea of putting the Presidential residence in Atlantis and having him beam back and forth everyday?" They got into the summoned elevator and Reynolds pushed the buttons.

"Sounds like a good idea. I just hope you're not planning to have the Hammond play ferry boat." He looked over at her. "There's going to be people wanting to leave and not come back. And maybe a demand for someone with some off world experience to help them. With the Lucian Alliance out there, we can't just drop them off on a planet and hope for the best."

"I don't quite have the relationship with him that you do, but Hayes might have a different idea," he said, exiting the elevator and gesturing for Sam to precede him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, recognizing the door to the infirmary.

Reynolds shrugged. "I'm just following orders." 

He stepped back and motioned for her to enter the room. Intrigued, she stepped forward, stopping dead at the sight of the figure sitting on one of the infirmary beds while Doctor Brightman stood beside him. 

"Surprise," Reynolds said, crowing a bit. A familiar pair of brown eyes met hers and Sam stared, wondering for a moment if she'd gone mad. "Look what I found crawling through an access hatch trying to break into my base."

"Jack."

He was dirty, he looked exhausted, he was thinner, but he was alive.

"Hey," he said, holding his arms open.

Sam stepped forward into them and wrapped her arms around him, physically confirming that she wasn't imagining or dreaming or hallucinating.  She took a breath and grimaced.   
Yeah, he was real. She pulled back gently, not even noticing as Reynolds left them. 

"You're dead," she said. "I…we found you at the cabin and—"

"Must have been Ed," Jack said. "Before I left DC, I called him and asked him to open the place up."

"Ed," She said, pushing her hand through her hair. She stepped away and turned her back on him.

"Sam?" He heard his feet hit the floor and felt his hand on her should. "Sam, what's—"

She spun. "I buried you, you bastard!" she yelled, slapping at him. "You couldn't stay in DC, or if you just HAD to get away, you couldn't catch a hop or get a driver so that anyone would know where you were. No, the great Jack O'Neill had to go cowboy and just take off on a cross country road trip without so much as telling anyone where he was going!" She ranted.

Jack stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, blinking his eyes in a way that reminded her of Thor.

"Tell ya what, as soon as you perfect that whole predicting the future thing, I'll never do anything without checking with you first," he said. 

She glared at him and balled up her fist, giving serious contemplation to taking a swing before her shoulders slumped and he grinned in that particular way of his that she just couldn't resist. "I hate you," she said, tears willing up in her eyes.

"Yeah, I hate you too," he said, wrapping her in his arms again.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked, digging her fingers into his filthy clothes.

"If I said the road trip from hell, would you believe me?" he said.

"Probably," she said.

"Dude, this place is amazing."

Frowning at the strange voice, Sam pulled back, looking over Jack's shoulder to see a young man step out of the infirmary shower, using a towel to dry his hair. He was obviously a civilian, judging by his shoulder length brown hair and his very demeanor. He was barefoot and dressed in ill fitting BDU's.

"Sam, Aaron, Aaron, this is Sam," Jack introduced. "He started tagging along somewhere in Illinois I think. He and I started out in Missouri this morning."

"Missouri?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Jack said. "Speaking of which, I wanna borrow your ship."

"Borrow my ship?" she asked, staring at him.

"What do we need a boat for?" Aaron asked.

"Space ship," Jack clarified. "Carter here has a nice shiny space ship complete with transporters," he bragged while Aaron gaped.

"Jack."

"I have a couple hundred survivors in an underground city called Subtropolis," Jack said, losing his teasing tone. "Aaron and I rode all night to get here to get them help."  
  
"Are they okay?" Sam asked, aware that time might be of the essence.

"They'll be okay for a while," Jack said. "They have good air, good water and food." He picked up a pile of clean BDU's. "Long enough for me to take a shower." He pushed past her, his hand brushing her ass.

Sam grinned, hating how her cheeks burned. "Yeah, you better," she called after him. "I don't think my air scrubbers can handle it otherwise."

He disappeared around the corner, leaving Sam and Aaron alone. "So," Aaron said. "You two do this often?" Sam looked at him. "I mean, he seemed to take it all in stride. Giant rocks falling from the sky, panicking people, collapsing buildings." Aaron shrugged. "It was like he faced the end of the world all the time."

Sam laughed. "Oh, you have no idea," she said, leaning against the gurney. "So, you guys were in Missouri this morning?"

Aaron nodded. "Kansas City." He grinned. "It was kinda a cool road trip. I mean, if you ignore all the dirt falling from the sky and the ash on the road and the potholes from hell," he said. "It was kinda gross though."  
  
"Gross?"

"Some of the feedlots, the animals are all dead. In fact, I think almost everything up there is dead." His excitement faded away and Sam saw a haunted look in his eyes that was all too familiar. "It was really spooky, you know? Hundreds of miles and we were the only two things alive."

"I can imagine," she said. 

Aaron frowned at her. "I don't think you have to imagine," he said, staring at her. "And I don't think he has to either." 

"What does he have to do?" Jack asked, rejoining them.

"I think, mister, if you're gonna shanghai my ship, you're gonna cook me dinner and you and Aaron are gonna fill me in on your adventures," Sam said, pushing herself up off the gurney.

"Oh, I am?" Jack asked.

"Yes, General, you are," Sam said, walking towards the door.

"Wait," Aaron said. "General?"

 

:::::::::

 

Jack lay down on the bed, enjoying the simple luxury of lying on a real bed for the first time in a week. He closed his eyes and felt himself melt into the mattress. "Nice place you got here," he said, hearing the door open.

"You just go ahead and make yourself at home," Sam teased. 

Jack laid there for a few more seconds before he felt the mattress dip and then her fingers trailing through his hair. "All your people are settled down in the fighter bay," she said, nudging him over so she could lie beside him. "It's incredible that you found that place. It's almost as safe as Cheyenne."

"I didn't find it," Jack muttered. "Someone knew it was there." He opened his eyes. "We just kinda made ourselves at home."

"It looks like it's a good thing that you did," she said, moving herself close to his side. "Two hundred healthy survivors. That's pretty good."

"Not too shabby for an old guy," he said.

Sam rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. She indulged herself in simply being 'here'. And having him here. "So," she said after a minute. "Kansas, huh?"

Jack sighed. "Longest damn five hundred miles of the whole trip," he said. "Lotta grass, lotta rocks. Just about as boring as the last time I drove it."

"You mean the last time you slept while I drove," she reminded.

She felt his hand trail up her thigh and settle on her waist, his fingers a warmth through her uniform that she never thought she'd feel again. She responded by digging her fingers into his shirt, feeling the beat of his heart.

"How long until we have to beam the survivors down?" he asked, his other hand coming up to cover hers.

She grinned and raised her head, moving up his body so that their heads were close. "As long as you want," she said, lowering her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and, for a while, nothing else mattered.

~Fin~

  



End file.
